(FADEIN: Timmy Windham on a dock, the PCL 2 visible in the background, gutting a fish with a butter knife.)

TIMMY WINDHAM: I’m an actor Mike. If you pay me to play the part of the mental virgin, so be it. But, you can’t rape the willing. Unzip into my skin, and wear me for days. Break me, until I haven’t a clue as to who I am. And I’ll simply be back to the beginning.

I’m an actor, Mike.

If you asked me my name, I’d ask the same.

Why cry about sin, why muse about big business Mike when there’s a new role to play?

Did you really think accepting a check to maim another man came attached with honor? When you stepped out of the desert, when you started running from the ghosts Mike you became a pawn, as much of a suit as Thomas or Merritt. When they asked how you felt about drugging a man you had to know this wasn’t a baptism by anything but fire. You’ve made millions, and with a needle look for irony. Are you ashamed? Was the blood shed for free? I can’t believe it was. You’re a star, Mike. A caged animal…a carnie unleashed on a Vegas show. You’ve been rewarded in this life. If you’re looking for satisfaction beyond, find a pre-teen and play the choking game.

What’s this battle mean?

What’s another life laid to ruins?

I’m Timmy Windham because I have no other name.

We die tomorrow, and the world goes on. We cut our hair but there’s no time. Just waste, the two of us rotting at the hands of the star dust that made us. **** writers Mike, that’s the simplest kind of poetry you can find.

What’s remorse or morality when everything was pre-ordained?

I’ve been sure of nothing in my life, but that I must be the Last Windham Standing.

You’re a reflection of me that stands in the way. Troy’s time is coming. Troy’s career, his apology to inflicting me with none of his charm, but all of his hate, is what I will get.

But, if I don’t…I win.

Haunt my dreams Mike.

Break my bones.

And when the sun fades, you’ll see irony and know no shame.

(FTB)